I am not Revan and I am not Vren
by PasswordPassword
Summary: Something has happened to Vren, something terrible. Bastila and the council are baffled, and when he sets a dark plan in motion, they'll all pay the price. Just read it schutta.
1. Dantooine

Hello dear readers, and thank you for investing your time in my humble fix. No, that's _**fic**__**,** _bloody auto correct.

Anyway, I hope you find this nice perplexing mystery and don't skip strait to the end.

Except if you really want to.

**I deeply appreciate all reviews. And if you think the story is boring, I beg you, leave a review pointing out the problem so I can improve.**

Ah yes! Almost forgot: **Disclaimer**: I own nothing

And now...

* * *

Vren Arlad didn't know if he was allowed in the academy sub-level. More importantly, he didn't care. If someone wanted to pick a fight and try to stop him, all the better. He was itching for a good fight. He was a baleful man, enamored with cruelty and destruction. But he was not rash. He knew that he needed to control himself, but he didn't have to like it.

Keeping up this pretext of loyalty to the Jedi ideals, this _farce_, was driving him mad. He didn't know how much longer he could keep it up. The idea of force sensitivity had fascinated him from the start, and to gain knowledge of the Force he needed the Jedi, and their trust. But he _hated_ the Jedi. He'd kept them fooled for weeks, but…

He was roused from his dark thoughts when a droid bumped into him. The boxes it was carrying fell to the floor.

"I'm sorry sir," the droid said as it started collecting its boxes.

"Blasted stupid droid! Have your worthless photoreceptors checked!" he fumed, considering if destroying the piece of junk was worth the trouble with the Council. They frowned on wanton destruction. Damn them_._

"I didn't mean to sir."

"You…" Vren trailed off as his eyes fell on one of the boxes. It was a simple cardboard box. It looked completely ordinary. But it _felt_ strange… there was something off about it, very strange… It attracted him, drew him it.

He had to have it.

"Droid, why didn't you tell me you had my package?" he brandished the box before it, putting on his best displeased-master voice.

"That package is for delivery to-"

"Are your memory chips up to date?"

"Why of course they-"

"Enough. You are obviously in need of maintenance. I am a member of the Jedi order and you will defer to me: the package is mine." Before the droid could protest, he turned and left.

Once outside in the night air he examined the package more closely. He could tell it contained something dark. Dark and very powerful, very dangerous. It seemed to be calling him, almost audibly like an angry mutter, or a whisper. It promised power, promised the Dark Side. He held it close. He couldn't open it here, no, he had to get back the to ship, he would be safe there. He tucked it into his robes and made his way through the enclave back to the _Ebon Hawk_.

Once on board he checked to see that everyone was asleep. He checked the women's quarters. Mission was curled up in her blankets, snoring softly. Bastila's bunk was empty, with its covers perfectly made. She was staying in her old room at the enclave. In the men's dorm, Zaalbar was spilling out of his bunk while Carth slept rigidly, yet soundly, in his. Vren went to the cargo bay. He placed the box on the ground and knelt before it. He could hear it more clearly now, it was louder, angrier, he could almost make out the words… almost...

With trembling hands, he torn away the tape, and opened the box.

* * *

Bastila screamed and bolted up as she awoke. Her brow was soaked with cold sweat. What had happened? She had felt some kind of deep trauma on the other side of her bond. Had something happened to Vren? Something involving his lost memory? She had to check on him. She hastily got into a nightgown and ran out of her room in the enclave to the _Ebon Hawk_.

She ran up to the loading ramp. She started up the ramp and jumped as she saw Vren standing at the top, glaring coldly down at her. Suddenly, she was aware that her gown was showing more than she would like, she tried to cover herself, preparing to rebuke his flirts.

"What do you want?" he said. His tone was dark, as was his impatient glare.

_No smart remark? No ogling? Not even a smirk? Something is definitely wrong_, she thought. She was almost disappointed.

"Are you alright? I felt something through our bond."

"I'm fine," he said flatly.

"What happened? What did you feel, you must have felt something."

"Just a nightmare," he said even more flatly.

"A nightmare? What about?"

"I don't remember."

"You don't _remember_?"

"No."

Bastila furrowed her brows. He had never acted this way before. She searched their bond. She felt it carefully sealed shut so that not even the tiniest trace of feeling or intent could pass between. _That should be beyond his power_, she thought. She was at a complete loss as to what was going on.

"If there is nothing else, I suggest we go to bed."

An idea suddenly occurred to her. She placed her hands on her hips in false indignation. "What do you mean _we_ should go to bed? I hope you're not suggesting we do it together." she said.

_You said it, I didn't._

_Quite an imagination you have there, princess._

_Interested, are we?_

_You would only've said that if you already had the image of it running around inside your cute little head. _

Any of these responses, Bastila would have expected. Vren didn't give her an expected response. In fact, he didn't give her any response at all. Instead, Vren maintained his iron-clad expression for a few long, very long, moments and then turned away, closing the ramp behind him.

Bastila stood gaping. She had expected him to at least acknowledge her, not regard her with such utter contempt. She would report this to the Jedi Council in the morning. They would know what was going on, they would know what to do.

* * *

Bastila and Vren left the council chamber, closing the door behind them. Vrook spoke first.

"Young Bastila was right, I felt nothing of Revan in him. Something has gone wrong."

Vandar pinched the bridge of his nose. "How could this happen? We needed his information on the Sith."

Zhar said, "Perhaps we placed too much faith in our abilities. We may have created a flaw in Revan's mind when we placed that of Vren Arlad over it. Now that flaw has proved fatal."

"Do you think he could still access memories from Revan?" Dorak said.

"It's impossible to say. At least there is less chance that he could reclaim the title of Dark Lord. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise," said Vrook. He had supported simply killing Revan's body, along with what was left of his mind. To keep this traitor alive was nothing short of madness to him.

"If their bond remains then something of Revan was absorbed by Arlad, though none of his personality," said Vandar.

Zhar nodded. "I felt that too. Vren is much more focused and humorless."

"Good. He has less of a chance of falling to the dark side with that state of mind," Vrook said. Zhar noted that focused and humorless was a good description of Vrook as well. "My point is that he may still have hidden memories of the Sith plans."

"He still has power as well. Did young Bastila not say that he was sealing their bond?"

Dorak said, "I'm not sure of that Master Vandar, the bond may simply be severed and young Bastila cannot tell the difference. But I suppose that we will never truly know."

"I will continue his training uninterrupted and report the results, then we will decide if we should send him on their mission," Zhar announced.

All nodded in agreement.

* * *

Vren was turned lose on the plains of Dantooine two weeks after his latest meeting with the council. He went alone, wrapped in a matte brown cloak. He needed no one distracting him or braking his shadowy trail of thought, or noticing that he was more skilled with a saber than he should be.

He saw an orange Twi'lek in Jedi robes standing on a bridge along his path. He pretended not to see him. As he approached the Jedi greeted him. "Good morning young padawan."

"Master," he said curtly, walking past him.

" Wait! I have something to ask of you."

Vren grimaced, and then turned to face him. "Your wish master?"

" I am trying to resolve a murder case, I would greatly appreciate your input."

"I'm sure your skill at this sort of thing far surpasses mine. In any event I am on an important mission of my own." He then turned and continued over the bridge.

As he continued on he noticed yet _another_ band of Mandalorians, one was in the red armor of a Rally Master, apparently the leader. He didn't think he could avoid being diverted by them, but he tried, simply ignoring them as he strode towards the ancient grove. A blaster bolt singed the tree beside him, stopping him. "Are you blind jedi? Come and face us!" That did it. He leapt into the air, his green saber blazing. He moved like a hurricane, first one Mandalororian fell, then another, and another, and then a Duros. The Rally Master moved at him with a pair of vibroswords. Vren flipped over him with ease and summarily executed a mou kai, severing both arms and legs. Finishing the remaining warriors with no trouble, he turned back toward the grove.

"Finish me…" said the faint voice of the Rally Master. Vren looked down at him. There were two lightsabers on his belt. He floated them to his own and continued.

"Finish me you hairless Wookiee!" the limbless man shouted. Vren didn't turn. He didn't want to kill him. There was nothing even remotely merciful about that sentiment, he just thought killing the man wasn't worth his time, it was beneath him. Since the night he found the box, everything was beneath him.

He felt a dark presence in the Force. He drew his lightsaber. This didn't feel like a tainted kath hound, this had a mind stronger than theirs, a Force sensitive mind. _A fallen jedi, it must be. _He thought. _A little test of loyalty from Zhar, they want me to bring their little lost lamb back on my shoulders._ He paused for a moment, considering his course of action.

He proceeded through a gap in the mesas and faced a ruined temple. In it kneeled a seventeen-year-old Cathar covered in short, pale fur. She stood, ignited a red lightsaber, shouted, "I will be your doom!" and attacked. _Blunt and direct; I can respect that_. She was sloppy however, her footing was wrong, her attacks blind, her defenses fidgety. He quickly found an opening and drove his blade ten centimeters into her belly.

She fell to her knees with a stifled cry and dropped the lightsaber, its safety turning it off as it fell. She looked up at him almost pleadingly with her striking yellow eyes.

"What are you waiting for? (cough) Finish me!" Vren was surprised how little the wound seemed to trouble her. The Cathar constitution was strong.

"I have no interest in killing you Cathar." There was no compassion in his voice.

"I am beaten, I am good for nothing but defeat," she said miserably.

"How did you come to that conclusion? And who are you?"

The girl introduced herself as Juhani, and went on to tell a tale of woe over her killing of her master and of her pent insecurity. Vren's feelings told him that there was something even stronger driving her towards the dark side, but he couldn't quite place it. Some sort of childhood trauma he reckoned. How much hate this girl had!

"Juhani, jedi do not train their padawans to be the best jedi, they just train them to be jedi. All they ask is that you commit yourself."

"Are you mad? Have you not been listening? I struck down my master! There is no redemption from that."

"Would you kill Quatra again if you had the chance?"

"No. No, I would never do it again."

"What would you give to bring her back? Your life? The dark side?"

"Anything, anything at all, anything worth giving."

"That will satisfy them, the jedi forgive anyone who is truly repentant." _In a way they forgave Revan when he wasn__'t__ even repentant, _he mused to himself.

"Do… Do think they would? Are you sure?"

"Yes. And even if I wasn't, you have little real choice."

"Yes, you are right. How could I be so blind?"

She stood up, but then grimaced at the pain of her wound and collapsed onto one knee.

"You should not try to walk. You would never make it back to the enclave in your shape."

"No, I can manage, just let me heal myself."

"I have some medpacs that will help."

"I said no!" She immediately regretted her tone, averting her eyes in shame. Vren almost smirked. _Such fierce individualism, no wonder the jedi scorn her. She could never be a very good jedi, but what a perfect sith_, he thought. After a long time carefully repairing her organs, Juhani's wound allowed her to travel and he escorted her back to the enclave.


	2. Confusion and Mistakes

He didn't know who he was.

He was someone he'd never met.

He didn't know what he was.

He was something he'd never heard of.

All he knew is that he was broken.

He was incomplete.

Anger.

Bloodlust.

Lechery.

Hate.

_He_ had taken all those things from him. _He _had made him incomplete.

_Very well. _He thought. His enemy could have those things; he didn't need them. In fact he was glad to be rid of them; they were impediments. They had distracted him from the one true, pure passion he felt.

Lust for power.

And now, with all of his many enemies disunited, he could pursue power with two free hands. Nothing would stand in his way.

Nothing.

Not even _him._

* * *

Vren received a long-winded congratulations upon returning Juhani to her master (who, as it turned out, was only wounded,) before slipping back to the cargo hold. When he was summoned to the council chamber the next morning, Vandar posed a strange question: "Did you dream last night, padawan?" Vren quickly considered the implications of answering either way.

"I feel that I did, though I can't remember it." His eyes roved from face to face, keeping his expression unreadable, looking for some reaction. He discerned none.

"Bastila also had a dream; a sleeping vision. She saw Revan and Malak visit some of the ruin here on Dantooine. We have long known about these ruins, but we assumed they were merely burial mounds. Perhaps they are something more."

"Something leading to the source of his fleet?"

"We suspect the so. Young Bastila says she felt a presence in the dream. But it was hidden, Shadowy."

_That fool! He did not even think to warn me! _Vren thought. He quickly decided to feign ignorance.

"Masters, do you think Bastila and I are closely joined enough for us to share such a dream?"

"It would seem so," said Vrook, "Even we do not fully understand what took place between you. In any event, you and Padawan Shan will investigate these ruins."

Vren affixed his piecing stare on Bastila, causing her to shift uncomfortably. He then turned and walked off, forcing her to fall in behind him. Once the two had left Zhar spoke: "I sensed no deception for him. He speaks the truth."

"Just because you sensed no lies doesn't mean he told none," said Vrook. This annoyed Zhar.

"And what, _Master Lamar_, did you sense?"

"Nothing; that is what worries me. We could feel nothing but his steely focus."

"Are you suggesting that he is shielding his thoughts from us?"

"It is a possibility we must consider."

"Yet he could only have achieved such a level of mental control if he had regained the memories of the Dark Lord, and if he had done so, we would see much of Revan's old brashness. Even Revan could never put on an emote as flawless as that."

Vandar cut Vrook off before he could respond. "We will wait until they return from the ruins. If anything will awake the mind of Revan, assuming that it has not been destroyed, it is revisiting that place. We will question both of them separately after they return to assess any change in him. Then we will consider what to do."

* * *

Vren brushed Bastila off at her every attempt at conversation (casual or otherwise.) Even when they started getting information from the four-legged droid he'd said "perhaps" or "maybe" to each question and theory she put forth. He was deeply engrossed in his own machinations. Who was it who transported droves of Selkath to Dantoonine? What was their "Starforge?" It was some means of production, obviously. He entered every datum into his calculations of his best chance for survival and ascent in his tenuous situation.

"Vren? Are you alright?" Bastila timidly asked as they stood before the star map. He suddenly realized He'd been staring into the star map for far to long.

"Yes," he said flatly.

"Do you feel different? Is the darkness of… this place affecting you?"

"No."

"Are you sure you feel completely normal?"

"Yes."

"Right… Then we should probably report our findings to the masters."

Vren wordlessly started for the door. Bastila shook her head. _I really did like him better the other way, even if he was cruel at times, _she though.

Bastila was immediately brought into the council chamber for questioning, where she was able to reveal woefully little. Vren took the opportunity to return to the ship to "meditate." He carefully checked that everyone was occupied before locking himself in the cargo bay.

oOo

As soon as Bastila exited the council chamber, she collapsed against the academy wall, letting out a frustrated sigh. For the first time in her life, she had a responsibility that she could not fulfill, an assignment that she could not complete, a game that she didn't knowhow to play. She had to watch over Vren, protect him from himself, from that person he used to be. That had been her job since that day on his bridge.

And some protector she'd turned out to be. She had been failing badly before, on Taris. He went from cruelty to cruelty; robbing, intimidating, killing. None of what he did had been necessary, as he constantly claimed. And now… this, something she couldn't possibly understand; something beyond even the council's wisdom.

What was it that people did when they felt like this? Smoked cigarras? Not really an option. Complain to a friend? She didn't have friends; she was a Jedi. They just had colleagues, and Bastila always had to be the best Jedi, even when she was just a youngling.

_Oh, what a simple time that was!_ She thought. _Back then my greatest was that I'd only gotten a 99% on the last exam or that I wouldn't be able to correct absolutely everyone's form in combat class. Now, I have the fate of the Jedi, and the entire Galaxy weighing down on my shoulders. And it just might crush me._

* * *

The councilors questioned Vren closely for several hours before letting him go. He answered them with his usual terseness. That evening, Vren was called once again to the council chamber. Dorak greeted him.

"Come Padawan, we must discuss something."

"We have reviewed the information you provided and it confirms our original impression," said Vandar, "There are four other star maps, One on Tatooine, one on Kashyyyk, one on Koriban, and one on Manaan."

"We have decided that this end must be pursued, and given your unique history and talents we believe that you are the ideal agent for this mission." Master Lestin said. He awaited a response, but Vren gave no indication that he intended to give one, so he continued. "Young Bastila will accompany you. Though your link is largely expired she can still be a guiding influence on you."

_So I was right, they did plan to send me on a covert mission. Could the discovery of the star map have been more convenient?_ He thought. "Will the current crew of my ship be sufficient, master?"

"We have one addition," said Vrook, "Someone who will remind you of the danger of the dark side."

_Brilliant. I__'__ll be chaperoned by a master._

"Young Juhani has expressed a desire to accompany you, and her master agrees."

Vren was relieved, and something akin to elated, though he didn't show it. "Very well masters, I will depart as soon as my ship is ready."

"May the Force be with you."

"And you, masters." With that he departed.


	3. In Flight

Enemies swarmed around him, following many ebbs and currents.

He saw every way to twist and warp those currents, to change his enemy's paths.

To send them to their doom.

To send him to success.

He saw the path to success, straight and smooth, but narrow. Very narrow.

He saw all the paths to defeat, numerous and wide.

Every enemy pulled him down a different path.

He saw how to shift them around him so they pulled him forward, as an ancient mariner shifted his sails.

They were useful. Especially _him._

But they were enemies still.

Dangerous still. Especially _him._

And soon he would kill them all.

Starting with _him._

Well… not all…

* * *

Bastila sat familiarizing herself with the ship's controls. She had been slow calculating the jump to hyperspace away from Taris and didn't want to hold up the group again.

"Bastila," she heard Mission's voice.

"How can I help?"

"Vren's calling us together to decide where to go first."

"Thank you, of course I'll be there."

Vren was stooped over a hologram of the galaxy with the four important planets highlighted.

As soon as Bastila entered the room Carth voiced his opinion, "I say we go to Kashyyyk first, it's closest."

"We will go to Koriban," Vren announced.

Everyone stared. Bastila broke the silence, speaking slowly:

"Vren, Koriban is the sacred home world of the Sith Empire, a place of unspeakable evil, an unholy sanctuary to the dark side. Going there now, while you have so little experience at resisting the temptation and empty promises of the Sith could lead to disaster. Worse still, I wouldn't be able to show my face there, I might be recognized."

"I know all that, but there is a very good strategic reason for going there first."

"That is?"

"It is inevitable that the Sith will learn of the great Bastila Shan and co. running around the planets of the star maps. Luckily, Koriban is the only planet they control. I rather not go into the heart of the Sith when Malak has half the empire turning over the galaxy to find us."

Carth nodded "That's sound reasoning I guess, better to get Koriban over with immediately." He sounded unconvinced though, suspicious as ever.

"Yeah, the Sith can't send that many people to places like Kashyyyk and Manaan, ya know?" Mission said.

Vren turned his cast-iron face to Bastila in silent triumph. "All right, I'll start the calculation for the jump," she said, trying to hide her concern. And her anger.

"I'll help," said Carth, and the group dispersed.

Vren slunk back to the cargo bay, where he now spent most of his time, and locked himself in.

* * *

"Bastila?"

"Yes, Carth?"

"Can-can you feel if Vren is being honest? He seemed awfully eager to go to Koriban."

Bastila leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "There are limits to a jedi's senses, especially on a mind such as his. The dark side is everywhere, it clouds my vision. He saved Juhani from the darkness, but that may have been out of his pursuit of the council's trust. I have not seen him actively engage in compassion or cruelty since the change within him. I truly do not know."

"That sound like an excuse."

"What?" she ask incredulously.

"I mean, you have to admit it's pretty damn convenient that the Force keeps you from examining him in the only way I can't."

Bastila was beside herself. This simple pilot was accusing the face of the Republic war effort, not to mention his (technically) commanding officer, of lying! "What possible reason do you have for suspecting me?"

"None. Yet."

"Then why don't you trust me?"

"Because I don't trust anyone I-I'm not built that way."

"Not _built_ that way! Do you expect me to trust you then?"

"No. If you're smart, you won't trust anyone."

Now Bastila's mouth was hanging open. No one could go through life without trusting people! Life was trusting people! And what was this "if you're smart" nonsense?

"Did you just call me a fool?!"

"No! No, I didn't mean it like that. Forget it, I'm sorry. It seems all I can do is insult you."

Bastila huffed and returned to the controls. The two spent the rest of the trip in silence.

* * *

Juhani sat cross-legged on the floor, her brows deeply furrowed. Mission approached slowly, feeling stupidly awkward.

"Juhani?" she made no response.

Mission shook her shoulder. "Hey, Juhani, wake up."

Mission jumped and fell on her back when Juhani's fierce eyes jolted open. "Mission, why have you interrupted me?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you, I just wanted to ask a question."

"No, I am sorry that I snapped at you. What do you wish to ask?"

"Nothing, it's just… I don't know, Vren's been acting kinda weird recently."

"I did not know him until recently."

"Yeah, but you gotta admit that it's strange, what with him spending all his free time meditating in the cargo hold, and he hasn't been sleeping, or eating, or shaving. It's like he's got something in there that we don't know about. You don't think he's chewing spice or something, do you?"

"You should trust him. He saved me from the darkness, but he seems to be a deeply private man. We should respect that in him."

"Yeah… Yeah, you're right. I guess I've just been hanging out with Carth too much."

"Yes. Did you hear the row they had earlier?"

"Oh, Yeah! Those two sounded like a married couple."

Juhani couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Carth and Bastila married.

"Well, thanks for listening Juhani. I'll let you get back to your jedi stuff now," and she when back to irritate Zaalbar. Juhani smiled after her. _She's sweet_, she thought.


	4. Korriban

There was a single settlement on Korriban: the small port city of Dreshdae. According to Bastila, the star map was located in a tomb in The Valley of the Dark Lords. They quickly learned that the Sith had built their academy there, and they would need to infiltrate it. To do that, they would need a medallion.

Vren was returning from the gates of the academy with Mission and Juhani in toe when he found his path blocked by a gang of youths in sith uniforms.

"Man, can you believe we finally got into the academy?"

"Hey, look at these hopefuls. What do you say we have some fun with them?"

"Do you have sith medallions?" Vren asked.

"What? Of course we do! Hey, I don't the way this g-"

He was stopped short as Vren disemboweled him with a single, precise slash. The other three thugs drew their sabers, but they were slow, very slow. Vren paralyzed the three of them with the Force, and then calmly started rummaging through the dead man's uniform. Juhani stood frozen in place with her lightsaber drawn in her hands.

"Aren't we going to finish them?!"

Not bothering to turn and face her, he said, "You may." Juhani threw herself at them like a wild beast, slashing them each in half with a mighty strike. As soon as her battle fury left her, she looked over her handiwork. The Jedi in her was appalled. "I… I should not have done that. They were-"

"Enemies," Vren injected forcefully.

"Yeah, Jedi or no, sometimes you've got to kill people," Mission said consolingly.

"It is not _that_ I killed them, it is _how _I killed them."

"Means do not matter, only ends," Vren said as he raised his hand triumphantly. In it was a blue and silver sith medallion.

"Mission, head back to the ship and get T3-M4 equipped and repaired, then send him to the bar. We'll meet it there. In the mean time, Juhani and I will dispose of the bodies. And Juhani, leave your lightsaber with Mission; you shouldn't be seen with it in the academy."

"What? How will I be accepted into the academy without a lightsaber?"

"You won't, you will enter as my slave."

Anger flashed in her eyes.

"Juhani, think about it; if we enter the academy separately we'll be expected to compete, we won't be able to communicate as often, and we might be forced to kill each other. But a drifter coming in with a female Cathar as a slave? That's believable."

Vren turned to Mission for affirmation. "Yeah, I'm on board with that. A Twi'lek is an even more believable slave."

"True, but you're not coming."

"What?! Hey, is this about-"

"Your age? Yes, but I'm not insinuating that you're inept. I know you're resourceful, but what if you get caught by a gang of half cocked dark jedi who decide to beat you to a pulp? Or, more likely, rape you? And what about their torture chambers? Are you ready to see the direct correlation between one being's agony and another's amusement? Are you ready to be so callused?" Vren stopped, his body language behooving an answer.

"I… I… _Yes!_" her voice cracked on the last word.

"He is right Mission, you are not meant to see the horrors that the dark side drives people to at your age." Mission was on the verge of bursting into tears. So Juhani put a comforting hand on her shoulder. It had been a long time since she'd had a female guardian figure in her life, and accepted this gesture completely, throwing her arms around her. Juhani returned the embrace caringly. Even though Juhani was only three years her senior, she acted twice her age.

Vren looked about impatiently. People were starting to come out from hiding after the fight. He tapped Juhani's shoulder, urging her to hurry up. The two broke apart, and Mission wiped her face. "I'll get T3, and… thanks Juhani." She smiled after her. Then she turned to Vren. "I am glad that you did that, even if you did hurt her."

"It was necessary."

"Yes, let us remove these bodies."

"No, let the local authorities handle it. They don't care about students killing students."

Juhani looked at him questioningly.

"I wanted to give us some time alone together. I want to talk to you."

"What is it you want to talk about?"

"Come, let us sit in the cantina," he said. The cantina had a sign out front labeling it as "The Drunk Side."

_Inviting me to sit with him in a cantina__…__ to__…__ talk__…__ is he__…__ no__…__ no__…_

He sat her at a corner table and looked her right in the eye with a practiced look of concern. "I would like to know more about you, Juhani."

"Me? What about me would you like to know."

"Tell me about your life before the enclave."

"That? Oh, there is not much to tell," She said with a nervous edge to her voice. Vren could tell she was lying; there was much to tell. "Are you sure you would like to hear it?"

"Yes."

"Very well. I spent the last nine years of my life at the enclave, as you know. Before that my life was a living hell."

At that point a bug-eyed droid interrupted them, "Greetings: what will you have?"

"Water, carbonated" Vren said.

"And you ma'am?"

"Nothing for me, thank you."

"Don't give them an excuse to throw us out."

"Fine. Blood cocktail, hold the liquor."

"But ma'am, that's just blood."

"That's the point. Now shoo and make it." And the droid departed.

"What was the Cathar homeworld like?"

She sighed, "I was not raised on Cathar, but rather a human hive world."

"Mandalorians?"

Juhani growled in her throat, "Yes, those mad Mandalores attacked my planet without reason. They killed my people senselessly. Me, my mother, and my father were among the lucky ones, we fled in a stolen ship. Or so I was told, I was still in my swaddling clothes at the time."

"Where did you go?"

"We… scattered to the four winds. Barely a million of us lost in a republic of thirty quadrillion… we are so few, apart from my mother and father, I have never seen another of my kind, there were no others on my homeworld. It… is a thought that has kept me awake at night, that mine will probably be the last generation of Cathar. I only wish that I, or anyone, could do something about it."

Vren took special interest in this. But still… she was definitely avoiding labeling her homeworld. There was something there, and he would find it.

"Where did _you_ end up Juhani?"

Juhani flinched. She opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment the droid returned with their drinks. She took the opportunity to pause by taking a sip, then she spoke.

"… The hind end of space, a pit of a world, to be sure. They could hardly have chosen a worse place. The human majority was… unconciliatory." Then, something inside her snapped.

"Unconciliatory? What am I saying? They treated us like scum! Like animals! They forced us to live in the lowercity with the trash and the gangs, they charged non-humans more for food and lodging, forced us to do menial jobs for menial pay!" She let out a hissing breath, calming herself somewhat.

"Juhani, what are you trying to hide from me? What was the planet's name?"

"None of your business!"

"It became my business when you attacked me."

Juhani rose up and narrowed her eyes, blasting him with their yellow light. "No. My planet was part of your business long before that. It was hell, but still, I never wished it destroyed! It was my home! You… you and Bastila destroyed it!"

"You mean-"

"Yes! It was Taris! You… You…" She found herself unable to articulate a proper statement of anger to the unchanging face, so she screamed and struck it.

She regretted the action immediately and turned away, cupping her face in her hands and sobbing. Vren quickly looked at the bar's other patrons. They were mostly unconcerned, apparently taking the scene as nothing more than a lover's feud. He stood and went to her side.

She suppressed her tears and spoke to him. "I am sorry. I make a pretty poor example of a Jedi, don't I?"

"No. The Jedi do not understand or appreciate the wild spirit of your people. They are foolish to make you subject yourself to their practices."

"Yes, I was never really suited to stand in the ranks," she said, with the same misery she had felt in the grove.

"No Juhani, it is the Jedi who are unsuited to you."

"What do you mean?"

"I have seen you in combat. You spend more energy fighting yourself than your enemies, yet still you are one of the strongest jedi I have ever seen, and at your age. The next time we face an enemy, focus yourself outwards more than inwards. See what it gets you."

"I… yes, perhaps I will try."

"Good. Sit down, I sense we have more to discuss."

Juhani nodded and sat.

"How did your family cope on Taris?"

"Badly, to say the least. My father was hurt by that world most of all, he was a warrior, and… he found our circumstance unbearable. He fell to drinking and fighting, and, one day, inevitably, he was killed. We felt more alone than ever. My mother, she cried for days, she was devastated, not only emotionally, but financially. She could not feed us both on her meager salary as a waitress, so she gave most of her food to me. Soon, out of desperation, she started borrowing money from the Exchange, but it was no use. One day, she collapsed at work, exhausted and emaciated. We couldn't afford a doctor, so I just sat by her for days in our little shack as she died.

Then, with no way of paying our debts, I was dragged away from her by Exchange thugs and put on the auction block like a head of cattle. But then I was saved, saved by the jedi. They came to Taris in great force, and declared marshal law. They broke up the auction, they struck down the worst of the anti-alien legislation, and they dismissed corrupt officials."

"The Revanchists "

"Yes, the follower's of Revan. I was then able to get myself off of Taris and to Datooine. I had been living my dream as a jedi for several years before you came. There, that is my story, you have it in full."

_Still she omits!_ He thought. Luckily, he knew her last secret. The Force strengthened the senses. He perceived much. Like the subtle change in her posture when she spoke to a woman, or the way her wandering eyes fell on female forms, or the small change in the smell of her hormones when she was near that friend of hers, Belaya. She'd had a relationship with her, doubtlessly, probably not a very intense one, but enough for her to understand her own affections. With the jedi only teaching their padawans about the danger of heterosexual relationships, she must have thought she was one of only two in the galaxy. _Very well, no need to let her know what I know_.

"Thank you for sharing, Juhani. It could have been dangerous to go in there without an understanding."

"You are welcome. But what of you? What should I know about you?"

"I was born on Deralia to a pair of loving parents who died peacefully a number of years ago after long happy lives, I joined the military as soon as I was old enough, received top marks at the academy, served under Revan in the Mandalorian Wars and then against him in this war. No trauma, no dark secrets."

"Why do you spend all of your time alone then?"

Before he could answer, Vren saw a purple Twi'lek swagger in.

"Yuthura Ban."

Juhani looked over her shoulder.

"Come," he said leading the way.

* * *

"I do not believe this! Where is your moronic droid?" Juhani said as they walked back to the _Hawk_.

Vren was not inclined to answer.

"This Yuthura does not seem like the type who enjoys being kept waiting."

An old purple Twi'lek stood in Vren's way and he shoved him aside.

"Watch it!" He shouted in gruff basic.

Vren was oblivious.

Juhani brushed past the man.

"Hey…" he grabbed Juhani's arm, "You look familiar."

Juhani glared furiously at the man. Vren reluctantly turned to face him.

"You there, how much for your pet?" Juhani violently tore herself away.

"I am no chattel, filth!"

"I do recognize you… Uh, lets see. No, he's dead… and she likely is as well…"

"Come," Vren commanded. Juhani gave the babbling Twi'lek one parting hiss and took after Vren.

"Taris!" shouted the man triumphantly. The two stopped as if frozen. "That's where I saw you! Taris! I was going to buy you before those damned jedi showed up."

"WHAT?!" Juhani whipped around, "You were at that auction? You were going to take me as a slave?!" Juhani's claws involuntarily issued from their sheaths.

_By the Chaos! How the Force conspires!_ This could be nothing but the will of the Force at work.

"Come on, surely we can reach an equitable agreement. We both know Cathar trash can't really think. Their females make excellent servants, but the males should be put down like the animals they are!"

Juhani's hand twitched towards her lightsaber. Vren chose to end the encounter. He raised a hand and the Twi'lek flew back with a hoarse yell. Flying twenty meters before skidding to a halt, unconscious.

"Come," Vren said and turned back toward the ship, his cloak flying behind him. Juhani looked at the Twi'lek, then looked at Vren. She shook her head and followed him. When they returned with T3, he was gone.


	5. Creeping Blackness

Vren was debriefed by the academy's master and sent to his room. It wasn't really a room so much as an alcove, as, for some reason, it had no forth wall or door. Vren spent time reading Sith datapads while Juhani sat brooding in the corner. After a few hours, Vren looked up.

"Juhani, you should go to the slave quarters."

"Why should I do that?" her voice was still edged with the anger of meeting that Twi'lek.

"Because it is suspicious for you to be here without being in bed with me," he said flatly. Juhani snorted and walked away. As soon as he was sure she was gone, he changed out of the grey uniform Ban gave him and back into his robes and cloak.

He then left the academy through a back entryway and returned to The Drunk Side. The lights were dimmed, and there were few people. Vren approached the Rodian behind the bar.

"Barkeep, I need information on someone."

The Rodian turned to him and squinted. "Say, you're that guy who was fighting with that dame this afternoon, right?"

"Yes-"

"Let me tell you, I can sympathize brother. Just yesterday my girlfiend-"

"Information."

"Right, right. Hold on… you came in on the Ebon Hawk didn't you? You Exchange?"

"I'm looking for a Twi'lek, purple, male, late middle age, speaks Basic with a gruff draw."

"Yeah, I know him. Weren't you the one who threw him across the hall? Whoa, hold on, wouldn't that make you a Si- Ack!" Vren closed his air way with the Force, lifting him off the ground.

"What do you know about the Twi'lek?"

He dropped him. The Rodian spoke hurriedly while gasping for breath. "Xor… his… name… is… Xor."

"Where can I find him?"

The Rodian took a deep breath. "The Red Rancor Cantina; that's where the slavers drink. It's at the corner of 67th and 21st."

"The name of his ship?"

"The _New Moon_, "

"If anyone find's out about this, I'll gut you," and he turned away and passed through the hallways into the dry icy air of the Korriban night.

* * *

The Red Rancor wasn't hard to spot. A neon red silhouette of a Rancor hung above the entryway, which was guarded by a Trandoshan and a Droid. He approached them, hidden under his cloak.

"Password?" hissed the Trandoshan. Vren raised his hands, and from each, a single flash of lightening shot, incapacitating both. He entered the cantina.

Inside, the air was thick with cigara smoke, the smell of strong liquor, shouting, flashing multi-colored lights, and blaring music. A Twi'lek danced on nearly every tabletop. As he wandered through the crowded building, he felt frustration well up inside of him. Finding Xor in this place started to seem less and less likely. As he shouldered his way through the crowd he noticed a series of alcoves in the back wall with separate tables, assumedly for sensitive conversations. Vren leaned against the back wall, and closed his eyes. He listened, piercing the din, searching for that gravely draw…

"… Yes sir, I'll happily agree to that arrangement, mister Hanharr… sir."

_Yes… there you are_, Vren thought. He strode in a straight line for the sound. There he was sitting at a table, nodding obsequiously to a Wookiee.

Vren slipped a tiny black chip under his fingernail and went directly for him. Approaching the table, he grabbed Xor's lek, causing him to yelp, and ordered, "Come with me."

"Your business with this Twi'lek can wait, human. Let him go!" the Wookiee growled as Xor whimpered in pain.

"No."

The Wookiee stood up with a roar placed a paw on the sword at his belt. Vren dropped Xor, ignited his red lightsaber and flicked the tip to Hanharr's throat. The cantina went silent.

"He comes with me."

"You have made an enemy today, Dark Jeedai." Vren extinguished his saber and grabbed Xor by the arm. As he lead him out he said, "Sith business, go back to your drinks."

He took Xor out of the bar and into an alley.

"What do you want from me, Sith trash? You just messed up the best deal of my life!" he growled, gingerly touching his lek where Vren's nails had drawn blood.

"Do you still want the Cathar?"

"What? You just wanted to talk about that? Why couldn't you-"

"In one week's time I'll send her from the academy to my ship on an errand. You will ambush and capture her."

"What? Why not sell her to me outright?"

"Her insurance is worth more than you would ever be willing to pay."

"Oh… Well, I'm glad you've come to see reason. I'll gladly accept that offer."

"Come prepared; she's more dangerous then she looks."

He left Xor in the alley and made his way to the spaceport. There he searched through the port computer system to find the _New Moon_. He then broke into the dock and placed a tracking device on her hull. Then checked a datapad. It showed the position of both Xor and his ship before he slunk back to the academy.

* * *

After a crapped, uncomfortable night in the slave quarters, Juhani was exhausted, and in a bad mood. She rubbed her bloodshot eyes as she walked back to Vren's quarters. He would probably be asleep at this hour. Good, She could wake him up and see how he liked sleep deprivation!

No! She could wake him up so they could start looking for the star map. Yes, the star map, they would find that and get off of this hell world. That was their mission, it was all that was important. _I should be more appreciative. He saved me, and since then he has continued to show more caring for me than any, save Belaya, ever has. There is no excuse, not his brusqueness, not Korriban's influence, not… that slaver, nothing, for showing him anything but the same._

As she walked down the corridor she heard voices, many voices, coming from Vren's room. She sped up, worried if something had happened in the night. She stopped when she rounded the corner. Vren sat alone on the floor, surrounded by several datapads set to audio mode, spouting their content in an incomprehensible racket.

"Vren?"

He made a flicking motion with his hand and all the pads were immediately switched off. He stood and wordlessly faced her.

"How did you do that? Such fine manipulation with the Force is difficult, to say the least."

"Practice. Have you anything to report?"

"Nothing, the slaves here are kept mostly in the dark, it seems. But… what is it you were doing?"

"Learning about the Sith."

"How could you separate the voices?"

"Meditative trance."

_A meditative trance? Did he just learn that? How is he so powerful? How does he learn so fast?_ She felt a pang of jealousy for him, and immediately it was replaced by one of shame. _That is not the Jedi way!_

"Vren, we should go and search for the star map. Bastila said it was it one of the tombs."

"Naga Sadow's. Yuthura told me that Revan visited it."

"Then let us go there now and be done with this place!"

"It's sealed with a cortosis door that only Uthar can open. He'll only open it once someone proves themself."

"Then we should make for the other tombs to uncover Sith artifacts."

"Lets fetch a vibrosword from the armory and go to Ajunta Pall's."

The two entered the tomb, and found it swarming with tuk'atas escaping the Korriban sun. It was a long hard fight to reach the burial chamber, and they were both drained. Especially Juhani, who had to cut her way through the tuk'ata's tough flesh and bone with a mere sword.

Once they entered the burial chamber the door sealed shut, and the apparition of Ajunta Pall appeared. The ghost surprised Vren, it spoke with sadness and remorse, shame even. It disgusted him. There was no room for melancholy in the Sith! It was there vigor that set them apart from the Jedi. He placed the black bladed sword in the statue's hand, and left the first Dark Lord of the Sith. On the way out, they encountered one of the other students, who demanded the sword. Juhani tightened her grip on her sword, but rather than attack, Vren simply cast one of the fakes before him with a clatter. The fool chuckled and departed.

It was noon at that point and the sun was merciless. The two returned to the academy and passed through the main foyer just in time to watch Uthar strangle the student with the false sword. Juhani suggested giving him the sword now but Vren declined, saying they should go and get some rest. Juhani shrugged. If it had been anyone else, she would have suspected them of being afraid. She decided to return to the slave quarters as Vren had suggested.

* * *

Vren searched through the datapads, looking for texts for them to read allowed. He searched for every treatise or ancient tablet that discussed dark side relics, force ghosts, and the relationship between the two. With the sword before him, he switched the datapads on and entered meditation. Time slowed, the spoken words ceased to drone around him, but rather flow into him, allowing each datum to be absorbed. He focused on the sword as his knowledge grew. Soon, very soon, all his enemies would be destroyed.

But first he would need to test his new found knowledge. Just before dawn he returned to the tomb with the sword in toe. When he finished his business, he brought the sword back to the academy, and into Wynn's waiting hands.

* * *

Vren's eyes leaped open. He couldn't believe what he had sensed. Vren slipped back into meditation to check again, swimming like a swift fish through images brought to him be the dark side. Yes… yes it was true. He'd done it, that impetuous fool had actually done it! The dark side encompassed most of the Force at this point, relying on the light, Juhani would be blind to it.

Vren rose and called Juhani on his comlink, "Come immediately," and switched it off before she could respond. He stood in the middle of the room as she arrived.

"What is it?" she asked

"Have you meditated?"

"In those slave quarters? No, though I sorely need it."

"Have you felt a disturbance in the Force?"

"Nothing unusual. Did you sense something?"

"Malak destroyed the Dantooine enclave."

Juhani's mouth went dry. Of all the questions in her mind screaming to be asked, one was paramount in her mind.

"Belaya…?" She whispered.

"Dead."

If Juhani had been human, her knees would have buckled. But she wasn't human, she was Cathar. Thus, she was taken by a desperate need to lash out. She looked to Vren.

"You… This is _your_ fault! It is you who attracted Malak! Was it not enough that you destroyed my hell? Are you happy now that you have destroyed my paradise as well?!"

She swung her clawed hand, aiming to slash his face. Faster than she could see, Vren caught her arm in mid air. They locked eyes. Juhani stood frozen. Those sharp, brooding eyes glaring from their blackened sockets paralyzed her. His voice penetrated her like a knife.

"Save your rage for Malak."

He released her hand and she stepped back. For the first time, she really saw Vren. Before she had seen him as simply introversive and terse, now she saw how wrong she'd been. He stood before her a pillar of magnificent, terrible power, a being aloof from sentient mortals, unhindered by their trivial needs and desires, as consistent and unrelenting as gravity itself in his pursuit of his goal.

She stood in awe, her rage forgotten.

"Return to your quarters. At dawn we will assault the tomb of Hord"

"Yes…"


	6. A Dark Path in a Dark Place

Days passed. Juhani fought at Vren's side time after time. They were dark fights in a bastion of darkness. One that Juhani was becoming more and more a part of. She started by allowing small lapses of self-control in combat. When a tuk'ata bit her leg, she allowed herself, just for a moment, to hate it. Then, she allowed herself to hate all tuk'atas all the time, then, to hate all her enemies.

Denial was her constant companion:

_It is this planet, it could influence the strongest Jedi, Bastila would be acting the same as me if she were here._

_I am burdened with the weight of despair, I will be fine after awhile. _

_I am not doing any damage, these Sith deserve everything they are getting! _

_Vren saved me from the dark side once, if I truly were falling, he would intervene._

It was truth, she trusted Vren to stop her if she went too far, and he hadn't voiced the slightest disapproval. In fact he encouraged her, saying that it was natural for someone of her species and personality to use her rage in such a way. And he was right! It was so much easier to use her anger, to fight the enemy instead of herself. It was so natural, so satisfying to vent her feelings on Taris and Belaya and Xor and Dantooine and her parents and the Mandalores and Malak into her fighting. She felt free.

But still she maintained a degree of caution and restraint. She knew the dark side was evil. _She_ _knew it._ In her mind this was just a holiday affair with passion. After a cold shower on the _Ebon Hawk_, a few meditation sessions, and some discussions with Bastila, she would set herself strait, never to stray again. Surely, Vren knew this as well, and he was just indulging her with his encouragements. Yes, this would soon end and she could forget about it.

And after just one week at the academy, time was up. Uthar was impressed with Vren's progress, and said that he was ready to face his final challenge in the tomb of Naga Sadow. Vren ordered her back to the ship to inform the others of their progress the night before. She never made it.

* * *

Vren discovered the star map, and then easily killed Yuthura and Uthar. Then he fought on, cutting a blood soaked trail through the ancient valley. Scores died by his blade. But they were many, and most had lightsabers. By the time he stood alone in the academy he was wounded and exhausted. He decided to take time to meditate and recover his strength. He would need it. When finished, he checked the signal from the _New Moon._ It was half way to Sleheyron; everything was going according to plan. After he was healed, he returned to the ship with T3.

After Vren rapped on the loading bridge, the _Hawk_'s crew rushed out with a salvo of questions. He raised a hand to stop them.

"I have the coordinates, but Juhani has been captured."

"Captured?!" Mission squawked, "Who by? When? Can we save her?"

"A slaver desired her, I couldn't stop him but I did place a tracker on his hull. He's heading for Sleheyron, we won't be able to overtake him in hyperspace but by the time we touch down his head start will be seriously eroded."

"Well come on, lets go," said Carth and they all hurried back aboard.

Bastila paused for a moment to look over her shoulder. She'd been burning to ask him and Juhani about their experience on Korriban. Everyone on the _Ebon Hawk_ had been unusually irritable the past few days, she had dreaded what the two of them were feeling in the Valley of the Dark Lords. But now she would have to wait for those questions, she had to calculate the jump.

* * *

As soon as they had entered hyperspace and the others were engrossed with their own business, Vren went to the cargo hold. He approached the plasteel bin containing _it_ and took it out. He felt _his_ expectation of him. He placed _it_ on the ground and entered meditation. He saw _him_, and he saw _it_ and he saw the strings that tied them together. _He_ depended on _it_, on the power contained in it; it held up his mind like a colonnade.

Vren began the technique that he had mastered in the tomb of Ajunta. Ensconced in the deepest metaphysical layers of the Force, he started weaving the flowing energies of the Force into a wedge. _He_ was growing impatient, Vren felt _him_ reach out with his senses, trying to learn what he was doing. Now! He had to attack now!

He drove the wedge home, right at the near void between _his_ presence in the Force and _it's_. The bolt struck, and _his_ cries of pain and surprise rippled through the Force. He pushed the wedge further, peeling _him_ off of _it_ like a Coruscant granite slug off of duracrete.

When the last thread between them snapped, the wraith attacked him, and they saw each other, as they had first met. Before Vren stood a faceless, animated cloak.

"You… You cannot do this to me! I am the real you! I am the Dark Lord of the Sith!" The cloak rasped.

"And you shall be destroyed, just as I destroyed the first of all the Dark Lords."

"I'll kill you!"

_He_ staggered forward, his spirit weakened and wounded by the separation. Vren ignited his lightsaber, and stabbed him. _He_ didn't even have the strength to retaliate.

And so _he_ died.

* * *

Bastila dropped her cup of tea and collapsed against the galactic map.

"Bastila!" Carth jumped out of his chair to support her. "Bastila! Bastila, can you hear me!"

She groaned. "The bond…"

"Bastila, Are you alright?"

She shook her head and regained her composure. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine, it's just… Oh, by the Force, Vren!" She sprinted toward the cargo hold. She intercepted him as soon as he left the cargo bay.

"Vren, are you alright? Did you feel that, a disturbance in the Force? Our bond was severed!" said Bastila.

"It was me."

Bastila realized with a start that for the first time ever, Vren was visibly taxed. He actually looked tired. "What… What is it? Did… something die in you?"

"Juhani."

"Oh… Vren, I am certain we will get her back. I can-"

"Leave me be," and he walked off.

"Yes, of course," she said after him. She felt foolish. Naturally Vren, even Vren, would form a close friendship with Juhani in the academy. To have her stolen as she'd been would be unbearable, so unbearable that it had caused a buried piece of him to die. He would need time. _So that is it, whatever was left of Revan is finally dead. I saved his life for nothing._

As Bastila mused, Vren called T3-M4 to the garage. He installed a number of new subroutines into the droid on toxicology and anesthesiology. Also, he programed in the instructions for a plan.

"Do you understand?" he asked once finished.

T3 beeped in confirmation.

* * *

The first sensation Juhani felt was pain, every sort of pain; the aching of her sore joints, the sting of the cold metal floor on her naked skin, the soreness of her wrists, ankles, knees, and elbows from her bonds, the burning of her wounds, and the stinging of her eyes from the harsh light. Her memories returned to her like and electric shock.

"XOR! _XOR_!" she screamed at the blank metal walls. To her surprise, she was answered. A door slid open, and the object of her hatred appeared.

A single word flashed in her mind: _Kill!_ She blindly tried to throw herself at him, rend his lekku with her teeth. She succeeded only in squirming uselessly on the floor. Then she cramped, letting out a scream of pain and hate.

Xor couldn't contain his laughter.

"You pathetic little Cathar girl! I could kill you as easily as I killed the rest of your disgusting race."

He kicked her onto her back. Pressing her into the floor with his boot, he yanked back on her ponytail. She was absolutely livid. She tried to call upon the Force, but she was too drained, and too unfocused.

"I could, but I won't. You'll be my trophy, a living trophy! You're the spoils of that war, and I'll enjoy you every way I can think of."

Juhani snarled at him, earning her a stun baton to the neck. He held it there until she finally cried out. When he relented, she was shuddering with pain.

"I see a lot of that in our future, girl. But right now, I have something else in mind."

He stepped off her and snapped his fingers. A pair of droids to picked her up in their stiff, cold grasps, dragging her after Xor, down the hall, into a dark room. They pressed her face down into something soft. She felt a cold knife cut the binds of her arms. Still she was unable to free herself from the droid's grasp. They wrestled her onto her back and chained her by the wrists to pair of beams.

Juhani's eyes widened in horror as the realization struck her. She was on a bed! Now the droids moved to hold her legs, and the knife again cut her binds.

"Spread her legs."

Juhani fought the droids, she fought as hard as she could, but it was no use. Xor tossed the knife aside and slowly crawled onto the bed.

There was no one to heed her screams.


	7. Salvation to Evil

When they landed on the uniformly brown planet of Sleheyron, Vren split them into teams. He left T3 on the ship and, to no one's great surprise, went alone. He, of course, knew exactly where Xor was, and briskly pointed the others in the wrong way. Free from meddling, Vren tracked Xor to a penthouse and entered the building.

A Twi'lek guard stood at the turbolift and Vren choked him before getting on. On the top floor he took the compound completely by surprise. There were a few guards; Rodians and Twi'leks and the lot, but mostly just slave girls who cowered as he walked by. Then, as he entered the main room, Xor appeared.

"You! What are you doing here? We had a perfectly good deal!"

Vren paid the man no heed. He carefully choked him into a long unconscious and walked by, continuing his search for Juhani. Eventually, once he'd crushed all resistance, he found a heavy durasteel door. Reasoning that nowhere else would be able to contain Juhani's wrath, he forced the door open.

* * *

Juhani sat naked and huddled in a corner with her back to the door. Her eyes were red from crying. Never had she imagined that such pain and misery and fear were possible. She couldn't accept that what had happened wasn real, it couldn't be, it just couldn't. Everything in her mind told her that _it wasn't real_.

She heard the door open and cringed. This would be a repeat of the unreal horror.

"Juhani."

Oh, now the galaxy's betrayal of her was complete, even her own sanity had abandoned her, taunting her with delusions of Vren's voice. A gloved hand fell on her shoulder, Xor's, surely. She turned, and she saw Vren. Desperate hope flared in her chest. Never did she think she would be so happy to see that joy killing face.

"Vren? Please… let it be you Vren!"

"You are safe now Juhani," he waved a hand before her, "Sleep," and she saw no more.

* * *

Vren addressed the others on his comlink.

"I have Juhani. Repeat: I have Juhani. The search is successful, everyone return to the ship."

He switched it off, and then back on to contact T3-M4.

"As soon as all _Ebon Hawk_ crewmembers, save Juhani and Vren Arlad, are back onboard, initiate the plan. Once it is complete, contact me."

The droid beeped its confirmation.

Vren sat before the unconscious Cathar, and probed her mind, trying to ascertain what had befallen her. It was as he'd thought. Xor had slandered her, humiliated her, and raped her. Juhani was shocked and terrified into submission, but that wouldn't last long. As soon as she had a little time to collect herself, the fearless Cathar warrior would thirst for Xor's blood. She would be putty in his hands.

The comlink beeped. It was T3 reporting that the deed was done. Vren loaded Xor and Juhani into Xor's airspeeder and returned to the ship. T3 awaited him.

"Are they anesthetized?"

It beeped an affirmative.

"Has the air been cleared?"

It beeped again.

"Move them into the port dormitory, along with the Twi'lek. Keep them all under anesthesia until we reach our destination."

* * *

Juhani awoke to the hum of the _Ebon Hawk_'shyperdrive, and the soft lighting of the port dormitory.

_Xor! Xor?_ For a split second, her thoughts contained nothing but that accursed beast. Then the image of Vren standing before her returned. She was free! She was safe! She cautiously stood. She was in the woman's dormitory. She slowly moved towards her bunk. On it laid the neatly folded combat robe of a dark jedi.

Strange, but she was happy to have something to cover her nudity. She felt very exposed, too exposed, even in private. She felt better after putting the black robes on, still uncomfortable, but at least she could hold her head up. She looked longingly at her bunk. Dare she sleep, lest this be but a dream? Taking a deep breath, she decided she would. She wrapped herself up in blankets, covering her head and curling into a ball. She felt safer, more secure, protected. Her last waking thoughts were of qualified content.

* * *

Juhani stood in darkness, endless darkness. She heard laughing.

She turned, it was Malak, pointing at her, splitting his sides.

More laughing.

Behind her, it was Canderous.

Still more.

Master Vandar, croaking in hideous mirth and thrusting a clawed finger at her.

Again more.

She whirled, it was Vrook, doubled over laughing so hard, pointing at her.

More and more!

Cassus Fett this time, laughing, laughing!

Still more!

Zhar Lestin, his lekku disheveled by his vocifity, as he pointed as well.

Again and again!

Turning, it was Bastila, snootily aiming her finger at her as she laughed.

Who else?!

She turned, turned again, looked around franticly. Where was the other voice?!

She looked down. Looming huge and terrible below, coughing out hoarse, withered laughter, was Xor. The unseen ground gave out and she fell, tumbling, down, down, into that terrible maw, between the sharp Twi'lek teeth. She entered complete darkness, but still the laughter continued, growing louder, louder, louder!

"Stop! Make it stop!" she screamed, squeezing her skull at the ears. It kept growing and growing, then, it stopped. She was alone for a moment.

Then a hand, a skeletal hand, grabbed her from the darkness, its touch was colder than ice. Another grabbed her, and another, another, another, again and again and again! The hands slammed her down naked onto a bed. Before her was Xor. And Malak, and Canderous and Vandar and Vrook and Fett and Zhar and Bastila. Each cast aside a gleaming knife, and in unison spoke that evil command:

"Spread her legs."

"No! No!" she pleaded desperately as they approached. They only grinned.

Then past them, she saw a lone figure, her face hidden under a cloak. Time slowed as she removed her hood. It was Juhani. She looked older, her fur was going grey and there were lines in her face. Her pupils were rimmed in blood red and her cheeks were sunken. The woman wore a look of grim determination.

"Help! Please help! Don't let them do this to me!"

"You must help yourself. There is no other way, Juhani. No. Other. Way."

"How?!"

"You know how, you have the power locked in your Cathar blood, and you know the code," then the dark Juhani put up her hood and stepped into the shadows. Time resumed its normal pace.

_She is right, there is no other way, I have no choice._ And she spoke the words she swore she would never speak again:

"Peace is… a lie.

There is only… _passion._

Through passion I gain _strength._

Through _strength_ I gain _power!_

Through power_ I gain victory! _

Through victory _my chains are broken!_" and so they were; the bone hands felt to dust. And Juhani rose, fully clothed in black, a crimson saber in her hand.

"The Force… shall free me…"

She struck. She struck all, Jedi and Sith, Mandalore and slaver. She slashed and cut and stabbed, and none withstood her.

"Juhani."

She looked to her left… Xor!

Xor still lived!

"Juhani."

She looked to her right…

Again he was there!

"Juhani!"

Behind her!

The man she hated!

"I will be your doom!" and she swung for his throat.


	8. The Consolidation of Darkness

I've noticed a lot of confusion over certain elements of KotOR. First, at the time of the game, Revan was 37 years old (considerably older then most people estimate) and Juhani is only 17-18 (making her fem-Revan relationship a bit weird).

Also, Revan started the Revanchist movement (and took the name "Revan") while scouting around on Cathar. Part of this chapter is taken directly from the comic.

** May the Force be with you, and thanks for reading.**

* * *

When Vren entered the room clad in a black robe and cape, Juhani was thrashing in her bunk. Her dream was charged with emotion, when Vren concentrated he could get hazy images of it, even though no link existed between them. He shook her shoulder, attempting to wake her.

"Juhani."

She squirmed.

"Juhani."

She groaned and sneered.

"Juhani!"

Her eye snapped open. "I will be your doom!" and she dug her claws into his arm. A degree of sanity then returned to her face.

"Vren? Vren, I saw Xor, I must kill him!"

"Remove your claws from my arm."

She gasped. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I didn't know," she carefully pulled them out. Blood dripped from the wounds; she had penetrated all the way to the bone.

"It's nothing." He ran a hand over the wound, stopping the blood.

"Come, there is something you must see."

Vren led her out of the dormitory and through the rest of the ship. To her surprise, it was empty, except for T3.

"Where is everyone?"

"You'll see."

He nodded to T3 as they passed, and it turned away sharply and rolled off. Vren led her off of the loading ramp and onto a strange planet. The sky was yellow with the sun at zenith. The _Hawk_ rested on a costal plain near the churning waves of the sea. Before her the land was scrubby, with dry bushes and grasses. A few massive trees lay in the distance.

"Where are we?"

"You'll see. Follow me to the sea."

"Why? Vren, what is going on?"

"You'll. See."

She huffed, "Fine."

They walked down to the beach and he stood in the surf, staring out for a long time. He pulled something out of his robes and tossed it at Juhani's feet.

"This is Cathar," before her was a Mandalorian mask.

Juhani then had a vision, the same vision seen by Revan and the Revanchists, the vision of the sacking of her planet. She saw the Mandalorians swoop down on the Cathar as they slept. They chased them out of the trees using blasters and jet packs, leaving their settlements in flames. She saw as the people were driven to the sea, the young, old, and weak picked off when they fell behind. When the Cathar were driven into the surf, staring back at their conquerors, Cassus Fett issued the command to shoot them down. But one soldier broke ranks and flew between Fett and the Cathar.

"Cassus—_wait_! They're _defeated_! We don't have to do this!"

"The Cathar left a stain of dishonor amongst the Mando'ade. Today, I wash it clean in the waters of their own presumption. But if you truly feel they need a defender to stand with them—then do so, warrior. I salute you."

She was shot, and her mask flew off. All the Cathar, all her people, were shot with her.

She saw it lay there for ten years, until a hooded jedi tripped over it, and picked it up. As the light struck it she saw his face. Vren! It was the young face of Vren, and he experienced the same vision as she. He put the mask on and cried out to the long dead woman, thrusting his saber in the air.

"I don't know your name—but I take up your cause. I will not remove your mask until there is justice—until the Mandalorians have been defeated once and for all. So swears… _Revan_!"

And the vision concluded.

Tears filled Juhani's eyes as she looked down at the mask of Revan. She looked at Vren, still staring into the abyss.

"Revan…?"

"Revan is dead."

"But I saw you in the vision."

Vren turned to her. "Revan is dead, dead because I killed him."

Juhani took a step back. "Who… What are you?"

"I am not Revan, and I am not Vren. I am the unholy bastard of the light side and the dark side, and the Jedi were my midwife. My name is Darth Void. Revan did not die at Bastila's hand, but he was badly wounded in both mind and body. The Jedi council repaired his body, but they chose to create a new mind built on what was left of the old. A mind loyal to the Republic, called Vren Arlad."

"But… you said you killed Revan, were you… separated?"

"Very good. Keep going."

Juhani looked down at the Mandalorian faceplate, then back at Vren.

"The mask!"

"Yes. By pure chance, we found it, and Revan's mind tore away. I am what was left over. The mask contains a piece of Revan's presence in the Force, so he fled to it. He hated me instantly and tried to destroy me to take his body back, but he was still weak. I defeated him and he gave me a deal; I would keep him alive and become his apprentice, in exchange he taught me the secrets of the dark side and took up residence in the mask itself. Then, hardly forty-eight hours ago, I betrayed and destroyed him."

"You killed your master? Yes, of course you did, you are a Sith," There was no resentment in her voice. "Now, what do you want with me, Darth Void?"

"You have been wronged many times Juhani, it is your right to have revenge."

"_Revenge,_" she savored the word on her tongue. To a Jedi, that word was a curse, profanity. But not to Juhani, not now, now it lit a fire inside her.

"Revenge against the Mandalorians for destroying your people, revenge against Malak for destroying Taris and Dantooine, revenge against Xor for raping you and revenge against the Jedi for weakening you."

"Yes! Yes! My Cathar blood yearns for them to pay!" Juhani drank his words without restraint.

"Join me Juhani, cast away the shackles the Jedi wrought around you and take what is your right. Together we will continue Revan's work; we will destroy the Mandalorians forever, we will gather the lost Cathar from across the Galaxy and they shall live as royalty, the masters of a new Galactic Empire! And we will rebuild Taris as our citadel, make it a city greater than Coruscant and a sanctuary greater than Korriban!" Never had Juhani heard him speak with such volume and force. Whatever was left of the Jedi in her was terrified into submission. There was no one to dissuade her from the heresy issuing from his lips.

_He is right, the Jedi manipulated a deluded little girl and made me think I wasn't good enough for them. They weakened me! They used me, played me for a fool! Everyone in the Galaxy who still lives has done me nothing but harm. I can depend on nothing but myself and the dark side._

"I pledge myself to you… _my master_."She dropped to one knee. "Teach me the secrets of the dark side so I may have vengeance."

"Come."

He led her back to the ship. At its foot was the crew, unconscious on the ground. T3-M4 stood by with a syringe.

"Now, Juhani, you will consummate your union with the dark side." He nodded toward T3-M4 and the droid started administering the fluid in the syringe.

"What do you mean?"

"Compassion and empathy are enemies in of themselves, they sap your hate, they weaken you, they stand in your way. Prove that you are above such thoughts by killing them. Then, and only then, I will let you at Xor"

The injections started to take effect, and the crew began to stir.

"I… I need a weapon," she stammered.

"Use your claws."

She looked at the crew, and she looked at Vren, and then back to the crew.

"Forgive me," she murmured.

Juhani sprang towards her confused crewmates. She went for Canderous first; she'd never trusted the Mandalorian. In one satisfying movement she ripped out his throat.

Then Bastila, pretty, perfect Bastila who personified the order that enslaved her. She was standing and could see her dispatch Canderous. She looked shocked, but stayed collected enough to try and disable her with a kick, but missed. Juhani swiped the side of her head and down to her chest, her claws tearing her flesh and severing her jugular, leaving her splattered with blood.

Carth next. He didn't look surprised at her actions, not even particularly angry. She disemboweled him, ridding herself of his damnable suspicion forever.

Behind her, she felt an attack coming. She ducked just in time to dodge a hairy fist. Cathar instinct took over; she turned and sprang at her prey, propelled by the Force. The Wookiee was too fast. He regained his footing and he beat juhani aside in midair and she hit the hard ground. She was up in half a moment. Remembering her experimentation with black powers in the grove, she called electricity to her fingers and into Zaalbar. He roared in pain and Juhani's face contorted hideously. When the scent of burning reached her nose and he stopped writhing on the ground, she knew to stop.

She looked over her gruesome handiwork when she heard a sob. Off to the side, Mission sat clutching her knees. Slowly, Juhani approached her. The crushed girl looked up, tears streaming down her face.

"Why, Juhani?"

"Because I have no choice." She raised her blood soaked hand. It shook lightly in protest, but this had to be done. She choked her with the Force, watching her face turn from blue to purple, and then, finally, all the color drained out of Mission's face, and Juhani's last modicum of compassion drained away with it. Now all she was, all she could ever be again, was hate. The massacre was complete.

"What is blood in your language?" Vren asked, completely unaffected.

"Ressa," she answered absently.

"That shall be your name. You have impressed me, Darth Ressa. Now here is your reward." He flicked his hand and Xor, bound at the wrists and ankles, came flying out of the ship and tumbled to the ground.

She relished the look of horror that crossed his face as she leapt upon him. She didn't merely kill him, she mutilated him, and then she went further. She rent him joint from joint, cut him to ribbons. She broke every bone and shredded every organ. She gave herself over to the madness of bloodlust. Vren watched with satisfaction.

_She will make me a wonderful apprentice. Once I teach her to focus her hate she will be stronger than Malak, perhaps even stronger than me. Together we will conqueror an empire that will last for thousands and thousands of years._ And then, as he watch the screaming Darth Ressa bathe in her enemy's blood, for the first time in almost a month, for the first time ever since becoming Darth Void...

…He smiled.


	9. Training Sith-Style

Darth Ressa was miserable. She was a burning, seething shell of anger, hate, fear, guilt, and ambition filled only by an oppressive void. _Darth_ Void. Regardless, she'd made up her mind to pursue the power of the dark side, and for that, she needed to be under Void. For now.

She sat alone in what had been the women's quarters, now they were hers, only hers. The room's appearance now mirrored the Sith Lady's own heart: Mission's pazaak cards, Bastila's endless meditation treatises, all of their clothes, and even the sheets and mattresses of their beds had been left on Cathar. It was stark emptiness.

The doors slid open and her master, Darth Void, stood in the threshold. She bowed her head in greeting.

"What is thy bidding my master?" she said.

"It is time you start your most important lesson: self-control," he said, skipping any introduction.

"_Self-control?_" she spat incredulously, "Self-control is not the way of the Sith!"

"You presume to know much, _apprentice_. But in truth, you know nothing. Without self-control, a Sith is no better than a wild beast. Passion does not bring victory. Passion brings strength and strength brings power and power brings victory. You must learn to save and direct your passion in order to obtain power."

A retort formed on the end of Ressa's tongue, but she thought better of speaking it.

"Good… you already know the advantages of prudence."

Ressa gasped. _Did_ _he just… read my mind?! Can he really be that powerful?_

If Void heard that, he gave no sign of it, continuing with his lecture.

"I have devised an exercise for the development of this skill. I will stop at your behest."

"What? Master, I-" Ressa was stopped short as a bolt of lightening leapt from her master's fingers. Every muscle in her body strained to tear itself apart as the burning electricity coursed through her.

"Stop!" she managed to scream. The attack ended instantly. Ressa looked up at her master.

"Now," he said, igniting his lightsaber, "The true test begins. Same rules as before, except now, if you call for me to stop, I will strike you."

He gave his apprentice nary a moment to prepare for the lightening. It wracked her body worse than before, scorching her skin and flesh. The word that would end it all flooded her mind. Despite using all the power she could muster to purge the word from her mind, it continued until the word started to form in her mouth. She bit her tongue, tasting blood, but still the word moved inexorably up her throat until her jaw muscles involuntarily slackened.

"Stop!" she cried.

The Dark Lord responded imediately. Ressa felt a new, hotter burn on the side of her head, accompanied by a concussive blow. It was the strike of a lightsaber in training mode. The blow was extremely painful, but barely even broke the skin. Ressa was knocked to the floor, and felt the burn again, and again, and again. She screamed, too weakened to resist, as he struck every part of her body. Then he stopped, and she looked up at him. He slowly extended a hand and a bizarre third pain hit her.

An orange beam of light shot out of her chest and met his hand. The apprentice felt the strength of every cell in her body leave her, causing a dull yet sickening ache as it did. As Ressa felt herself approach unconsciousness, with death close behind, he stopped, and spoke.

"I will leave you now to contemplate your mistake, then we will try again." With that, he turned and left, closing the door behind him. Ressa's head dropped to the ground, and she slept like a corpse.


	10. Swirling Thoughts

Alright, so in my first draft of this fix (that's _**fic**_) I had a whole bunch of dialog between Void and Revan. I then took it out to make it into a mystery.

Fearing that this may have made certain areas confusing, and reluctant to throw away so much work, I've rehashed it all into this chapter in the form of Void meditating on his past conversations.

Hope this clears some thing up!

* * *

_Myriad old thoughts swam through Darth Void's mind, dipping ever in and out…_

Once on board he checked to see that everyone was asleep. He checked the women's quarters. Mission was curled up in her blankets, snoring softly. Bastila's bunk was empty, with its covers perfectly made. She was staying in her old room at the enclave. In the men's dorm, Zaalbar was spilling out of his bunk while Carth slept rigidly, yet soundly, in his. Vren went to the cargo bay. He placed the box on the ground and knelt before it. He could hear it more clearly now, it was louder, angrier, he could almost make out the words… almost...

With trembling hands, he tore away the tape and opened the box. He felt a sudden concussive force and found himself in a dark expanse. Looming before him was a huge Mandalorian mask. He had seen that mask before; it was the mask of Revan. Someone else had seen it to.

Behind him he heard a beastial moan. He turned. Something was stirring on the dark ground. It stood. It was manlike in form, but its lines were ill-defined. Vren watched in horror as it drew itself up and he saw that it was an animated cloak. The creature screamed and bolted forward, knocking Vren aside, and it leapt up and grabbed the mask.

Vren felt the same concussive force again and was back in the cargo hold. The mask lay in the box. Through the Force the mask spoke. "Surprise pretender! Guess who."

"Wh-What are you?" he asked the mask.

"I'm you, you as you were meant to be. The real you."

"But Revan's mask… are you… Revan?"

"Give the man a prize! You're not as stupid as I thought you would be."

"But-"

He was cut off when they heard the pneumatics of the ship's loading ramp.

"It's Bastila!" the mask said.

"It can't be, I would sense her presence."

"There's no time to explain. You need to hide me!"

Vren obeyed and stowed the mask in a plasteel barrel. Then he went to meet Bastila.

* * *

Vren returned to the cargo bay, removed the mask and knelt before it.

"Why can't I feel her?"

"This is no way for us to address each other; let's go somewhere a little more private," and Vren found himself once again in the shadowy plain. Before him stood the cloak wraith, except now the mask lay under its hood.

"Because she is bonded to me, not you, it was formed when the foolish girl pumped her life energy into my broken mind and body after the battle on my bridge" it said.

Vren stored this information for later analysis. "Where are we?"

"Dantooine."

Vren sneered.

"Between each other's minds, communing in the force. Ha! What a hard case the jedi made you without my charm bleeding through."

"The jedi do not control me."

"Oh, but they do, or at least they did."

Vren clenched his fists. Why had the mind of a dead Dark Lord been inside him? What did he mean about the bloody jedi making him? And what was this about Bastila saving him?

"So the jedi… captured you…"

"Keep going."

"Then your body failed and they put you into my mind from afar, and that's why I got assigned to the _Endar Spire_."

"Almost. That's my body you're in; the jedi fabricated you, paving over my damaged mind, so that some of the memories of my war effort would come bubbling up for them to use."

"So… all my memories before a few months ago are fabricated as well?"

"All made up by the jedi, disgusting thought isn't it?"

"Why should I believe you?"

The cloak made an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know, and honestly, it doesn't matter if you do."

"Why not?"

Revan drew a lightsaber and lunged. Vren reached for a lightsaber. He didn't know why; he hadn't made one yet. And yet, there it was at his belt. Vren accepted this and moved to parry. The blade showed violet. He repelled Revan's blade and swung down with all his might. Revan stumbled back. _This is the great Lord Revan?_ He thought. Vren prepared another strike. Revan threw his saber aside.

"Wait! I can still be of use to you!"

His assailant stayed in position to strike. "What do you offer?"

"It seems I'm still weak from the damage to my mind, but I hold many secrets, much knowledge. I can teach you much."

"You're asking me to become your apprentice?"

Revan's unseen face turned livid. He was fine shooting quip at him for sport before snuffing him out, but to coexist with this ragdoll? This usurper? This thing wearing his face as a mask? It was unthinkable. Were it not for Vren's lightsaber, he would have been throttling his throat. He groaned.

"Yes… I will teach you… you will be apprentice to… the Dark Lord of the Sith."

"What will I be called?"

"_You_? You are nothing; a void. That will be your name; Darth Void."

_Awfully supercilious for the loser of a duel. Who__'__s to say I shouldn__'t__ be the master? I was stronger,_ he thought. But he knew that if he antagonized such an unstable individual he would attack, and then there would be no one to teach him the ways of the sith. He bowed.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

* * *

Vren was turned lose on the plains of Dantooine two weeks after his latest meeting with the council. He went alone, wrapped in a matte brown cloak. He needed no one distracting him or braking his shadowy trail of thought, or noticing that thanks to Revan's training he was more skilled with a saber than he should be. Revan had explained that the dark plain was an imperfect analogy for the interaction of their minds. That was why he was armed with a saber when he hadn't made one, and beaten Revan without knowing how to use it. When they weren't in mortal combat, Revan was far superior, despite the fact that he had lost much of his muscle memory.

Vren used the time to contemplate his position. The jedi apparently suspected nothing of Revan's circumstance, otherwise they wouldn't have let him make a lightsaber. But did that mean that they'd trust him on the mission they were obviously grooming him for? At first, he thought they'd been planning to send him to the front to use his subconscious intuition into Sith strategy as some kind of special military advisor. But that didn't explain why the council hadn't allowed Carth back to the front or sent Mission and Zaalbar to a refugee camp. If they were keeping the _Ebon Hawk_'s crew intact, they must have been planning to send them out on an espionage mission of some kind, almost certainly with Bastila, due to the bond. That was bad, with Bastila so close she would eventually figure out what was on the other side of her bond. On the other hand, an espionage or scouting mission would mean they would be out of contact with the council and he would have the chance to eliminate her before she could report it.

* * *

Vren brushed Bastila off at her every attempt at conversation (casual or otherwise.) Even when they started getting information from the four-legged droid he'd said "perhaps" or "maybe" to each question and theory she put forth. He was deeply engrossed in his own machinations. All of them involving Revan to varying degrees. Who was it who transported droves of Selkath to Dantoonine? What was their "Starforge?" It was some means of production, obviously. Revan had told him nothing of where his fleet came from. Just like he hadn't told him about the dream vision. There was only one conclusion; Revan was trying to hide the forge from him, and he would only hide it if he intended him never to see it, or stand at his side. He meant to finish him off before that came around. That made sense; Vren could feel that Revan's damaged mind was growing stronger. Soon he would probably try overpowering him again to get his body back. Where else would he get one?

He had to find some way of either holding off Revan's plan or forcing him to change it. It would probably have to be the former, as Revan loathed him so much that he would go out of his way to destroy him. But would he be able to? What guarantee did Revan have that he would progress faster than Vren? Vren had not lost any of his power in the split, so why would he have lost his speed of progress? Albeit it ultimately came from Revan's laden memories.

No, he could not bet his life on such a gamble. He would need-

"Vren? Are you alright?" Bastila timidly asked as they stood before the star map. He suddenly realized He'd been staring into the star map for far to long.

* * *

Bastila was immediately brought into the council chamber for questioning. Vren took the opportunity to return to the ship to "meditate." He carefully checked that everyone was occupied before closing the cargo bay doors and kneeling before the barrel containing the mask. He felt the now familiar blow and appeared before Revan. He kneeled.

"What is thy bidding my… _master_?"

Revan ignored the begrudged venom of the last word. "Report Void. What do the jedi have you doing?"

"When was the last time we spoke, master?"

"Answering a question with a question? That's bad form with your master."

"Did you sleep well the previous night?"

"I get the feeling you don't really care."

"Did you have any dreams?"

"Why yes, it was wonderful; I had an apprentice who respected me."

"There was nothing about your past? About the Starforge?"

Revan immediately drew his lightsaber and swung to kill. Vren whipped out his own and they locked blades.

"What do you know about the Starforge? What do the jedi know?"

"Only what we found in those ruins, the jedi sent us to find that star map."

"The data was hopelessly corrupted though, right?"

"Yes, but we know of the others around the galaxy."

Revan stepped back and they extinguished their sabers. "What will the council do?"

"I don't know, they're questioning Bastila now, about me I think. They want to know if you're waking up inside of me. That brings me to another point: Why didn't you tell me about that dream?"

"Oh, that? I didn't think it would be important."

"Bastila said she felt you hiding in the shadows of the dream. You knew she might report this but said nothing. You tried to hide this from me."

"What good Sith trusts their apprentice?"

"If you intended to keep me as your apprentice after we destroy Malak then I would have to learn of it eventually. You plan to get rid of me. But remember this: I am your eyes, ears, and hands. You have no presence beyond this room and you're not strong enough to take this body back yet, you need me. And if you ever try to betray me again I'll report the 'remarkable discovery' of the mask of Revan to the council.

I must report to the council for questioning. Farewell master."

* * *

"We have one addition," said Vrook, "Someone who will remind you of the danger of the dark side."

_Brilliant. I__'__ll be chaperoned by a master._

"Young Juhani has expressed a desire to accompany you, and her master agrees."

"Very well masters, I will depart as soon as my ship is ready."

"May the Force be with you."

"And you, masters." With that he departed.

Vren could hardly believe his luck. The ignorant fools were actually sending him off with a potential sith apprentice! If he could turn Juhani to the dark side, which wouldn't be difficult, he could eliminate Bastila and Revan. Then he could pursue Malak for the title of Dark Lord. He would need to proceed carefully though. It would be difficult. He had to keep both Bastila and Revan ignorant of him working on Juhani, and Juhani and Bastila had to be kept ignorant of Revan, and he had to absorb as much wisdom from Revan as possible before Revan decided to try and kill him, and keep up the appearance of looking for the Starforge, and find some way of convincing Revan to go along with that.

This would require thought, much thought.

* * *

Vren turned his cast-iron face to Bastila in triumph. "All right, I'll start the calculation for the jump."

"I'll help," said Carth, and the group dispersed.

Vren slunk back to the cargo bay, where he now spent most of his time, to commune with Revan.

"Void, I feel your ship launching into orbit. Where are we going?" Revan demanded immediately.

"The jedi have sent me to find the Starforge. I have convinced them to go to Koriban first. We will be able to find followers there. Perhaps some of the masters there could create a new body for you, master."

"I will take my body! If I'm in a good mood, I'll let you take the homunculus," Revan sneered.

"Then you approve my actions, master?"

"Yes... though I wish you had consulted me. What about your companions? I can taste that schutta Bastila Shan on board."

"Leave them to me, master. When the time comes, I will destroy them with ease."

"Good. And going to Koriban means we have plenty of time to work on your Djem So form, it's unforgivably sloppy."

"Of course, master," he said drawing his saber. _Soon I will destroy this fool, _he thought.

* * *

The spirit of Darth Revan was in a state of deep meditation. There was little else to do in his position. If he concentrated he could see images of the world around the mask, but apart from that and Darth Void's visits, he was cut off. He hated that, it meant he was more dependent on Void then Void was on him. But that would not be for long. That fool didn't realize how quickly he was healing the damaged extremities of his mind, how quickly his strength was returning. Especially now that he was on Korriban, in The Valley of the Dark Lords. He could feel the essence of the place, It fed him, allowed him to regrow faster. Soon that sorry excuse for a Sith lord would be destroyed, and he would return first to his proper body, and then to the head of the Sith Empire.

But in the meantime, Void had not reported for almost a full day, and he didn't sense his presence on the ship. How he hated Void's changing their plans! Was it possible that Void had abandoned him? No, Void still relied on him. Plus, he was smart enough not to leave such a powerful Sith Lord alive… half alive, while he pursued galactic power. Yes, the pretender would need to cross his path eventually, and when he did, he would be ready.

* * *

As soon as they had entered hyperspace and the others were engrossed with their own business, Vren went to the cargo hold. He approached the plasteel bin containing the mask and took it out. He felt Revan's expectation of him. He placed the mask on the ground and entered meditation, but not communion with Revan. He saw Revan, and he saw the mask, and he saw the strings that tied them together. Revan depended on his mask, on the power contained in it; it held up his mind like a colonnade.

Vren began the technique that he had mastered in the tomb of Ajunta. Ensconced in the deepest metaphysical layers of the Force, he started weaving the flowing energies of the Force into a wedge. Revan was growing impatient, Vren felt him reach out with his senses. Now! He had to attack now!

He drove the wedge home, right at the near void between Revan's presence in the Force and his mask's. The bolt struck, and Revan cries of pain and surprise rippled through the Force. He pushed the wedge further, peeling Revan's spirit off of the mask like a Coruscant granite slug off of duracrete.

When the last thread between them snapped, the wraith Revan attacked him, and they saw each other, as they had first met. Before Vren stood a faceless cloak.

"You… You cannot do this to me! I am the real you! I am the Dark Lord of the Sith!" the cloak rasped.

"And you shall be destroyed, just as I destroyed the first of all the Dark Lords."

"I'll kill you!"

Revan staggered forward, his spirit weakened and wounded by the separation. Vren ignited his lightsaber, and stabbed him.

And so died Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith.


	11. A New Age

Darth Void, Dark Lord of the Sith, stood, his last images of Revan slipping like water from his mind. He had waited long enough, Ressa had to learn her lesson. He exited his quarters and crossed to the other side of the ship. He knew Ressa could feel his approach, but he felt no fear from her. He was unsure what to think of that. He opened the door.

Darth Ressa sat cross-legged with her back to the door. She heard the door to her quarters hiss open, and slowly, deliberately, stood. She turned to her master, but did not bow; rather she crossed her arms over her chest.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

She wasn't surprised by his answer: a turgid river of electricity.

The flood bit into her with terrible savagery, throwing her into the wall. She almost cried out right there and then, she almost forgot her plan. But she caught herself, turning pain into indignation, and indignation into recalcitrance. She imagined his satisfaction if she failed, the pleasure he would take in her failure. The image was false; contrived, but it did the trick. She refused to give in, she put everything into her resistance, and the more the pain grew, the more her resistance grew.

She expected to be tortured to within an inch of her life, to be full and completely wracked with new and interesting variations of pain. But he stopped, barely five seconds into his attack.

"You have impressed me Ressa. I did not expect you to take that lesson so quickly. But fail to bow to me again, and you will suffer."

Ressa wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. "Yes, my master," she said as she dropped to one knee. "If I may ask, where are we bound for?"

"Vjun."

"I have never heard of it."

"A planet on the outer rim, bathed in acid rain. And the dark side. It is not as good a place as Korriban, but it is good as a training ground."

"As you wish, master."

He then turned and left.

Ressa let out a long sigh. _This road I have chosen to follow, it will be a long one… and a hard one…_

* * *

Three months. Three months since the destruction of Dantooine, and still, no sign of Revan. Malak growled out his frustration, and the metallic rumble settled over the bridge like an icy mist. The officers huddled deeper into the respective tasks, desperate to avoid the Sith Lord's ire.

Darth Malak turned briskly and stomped off of the bridge, back to his quarters. Most assumed that by now, the war would be done with, but it was not so. Under Malak, the Sith onslaught had been reduced to a ponderous crawl. He was a pale shadow of the commander Revan had been, but failure for the Sith was still unthinkable. He had the Starforge, he had Saul Karath, he had the Sith order Revan had created, and he had a broken and exhausted enemy. Bar a continuous effort on his part to bring down the Sith war machine, and eventual triumph was inevitable.

Malak passed the threshold into his spacious quarters. He stopped. Why had he come here? To fume in private? To catch up on paper work? He didn't know, perhaps he just wanted to go somewhere, to do something. He walked into the next room. Malak froze. Before him, sitting and playing a game of dejarik, sat a heavily cloaked intruder.

"Wha- Who dares?"

"The Dark Lord of the Sith… Squint."

_That nickname._ How many years had it been? How long had it been since anyone had addressed him thus? How long had it been since that time of youth? There were no more than a dozen people in the galaxy who knew his old nickname.

"Revan… I knew you would not stay hidden forever. Tell me, what is it that you seek in this meeting?" Malak tried to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Do I sound like Revan to you? Does my presence feel like his?" he removed his hood, "Do I look like him?"

"You… You…" Malak stammered. He did… sort of. The voice could have been his, so could the bearded face, and the Force profile. But they weren't. There was something off about him… like Malak's eyes were trying to trick him. He scowled, or came as close as he could, and dropped the puzzle. He didn't like puzzles, he wasn't a man of puzzles, he was a man of action; raw, blunt, decisive action. The incumbent Dark Lord lit and brandished his saber.

"You're taking your time," Void said. Something in his voice stayed Malak's hand from striking.

"What do you mean?"

"Make haste," Void said, his voice was devoid of tone.

"Eager to die Revan?"

"He will notice you soon."

Malak furrowed his brows, turning the statement over in his slow brain.

A shaft of crimson light erupted from the Dark Lord's chest, a tiny moment later, Malak felt extreme heat and, distant pain deep within him. For an interminable second, Malak merely stood, clinging to life by shear tenacity. Then the blade withdrew, and Malak felt his knees buckle. As he fell, and the world receded into blackness, he finally figured it out. _He wasn't talking to me at all. He was talking to his apprentice._ At the same instant Malak's massive frame struck the ground, he became one with the Force, banished to the Chaos. The terrific thud of his fall was paralleled by a great echo in the Force, the disturbance of a powerful Force user being replaced with a void. And in that instant, every Force sensitive on the _Leviathan_ knew: the Dark Lord of the Sith was dead.

Darth Ressa stood above her victim. She wore a cuirass of slick black metal, with gloves and gauntlets of the same material and similar knee high boots, leaving her thighs and upper arms bare. Her eyes were shot with splinters of red around the pupils. She looked, every inch of her, a seasoned Sith Lady, hardened and tautened by the firm hand of her master, and the hardships of Vjun.

"I am not a child, master. Puny taunts will not cause me to break my stealth field."

"So I expected," Her master said. He had been glad as her training had tempered her haughty edge, but not dulled it. It testified of her inner strength.

"Ressa, you must understand one thing: I am the Dark Lord of the Sith. Malak never killed Revan, his master, meaning that he was never the rightful Dark Lord. Revan's death came at my hands, I was the legitimate Dark Lord before I even took you as my apprentice. This was meant solely as a your final test."

"Yes… of cource," she said, contempt dripping from her voice. Darth Void took no notice.

"Let this be a lesson to you. Had you faced Malak in an open duel, he would have crushed you. You used his simple mindedness, his arrogance, and a skill unique to you, and you defeated him easily."

"I understand, master. Now…" she ignited her lightsaber, removed Malak's great head, and clutched it in her left hand, "… let us assert ourselves over Malak's rabble."

And so dawned a new chapter in the history of the Sith, and the Galaxy.


End file.
